


Breathe

by justanafterthought



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oneshot, coffee worker! Steve, please read the beginning note, tattoo artist! Bucky, thank you, the only "bad" thing in this is that steve has an asthma attack, this was originally posted on my main
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 18:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9336338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanafterthought/pseuds/justanafterthought
Summary: Prompt from anonymous: Imagine Bucky is a tattoo artist and Steve is the little skinny, health challenged hipster punk that had the balls to have his first tattoo be the word "breathe" on his ribs and the more they fall in love, the more Steve's body becomes a canvas for Bucky's art.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I want to explain something about this particular story. I have been moving some of my old stories off of my main to clean it up, and this story has a bit of, drama? behind it.   
> This story was originally written in November of 2014, and it was written for the prompt that is in the summary. During this time, I was writing for a blog that accepted prompts such as these. And then this prompt was submitted, so I wrote the story.   
> After I had finished it and posted it, I got a comment saying that the prompt was the exact same concept as a story written by OhCaptainMyCaptain. On my fic, this is what they had to say:   
> "Yeeeaaaah, that anon prompt sounds 100% like what my story is about. I'd like to point out that the prompt I originally received didn't mention the "breathe" on the ribs part; that was entirely my own concept, so I'm a little put off by the fact that they took ideas I created and prompted another author with it. But having said that, this isn't your fault (the author), and your story is different from mine in its execution, and I actually really enjoyed this. Thanks for a cool piece of writing. That anon has me a little miffed, though lol ... I agree this fic was well written, but I want to clear up the fact that this was NOT the original prompt. The prompt I received was simply, "Tattoo Shop AU with tattoo artist Bucky and skinny!Steve." The problem is that the prompt that THIS author received looks pretty much directly ripped off of the plot I established in my story (Steve being a hipster with health problems, him going to Bucky for his first tattoo and getting the word "breathe" on his rib, and Steve's body continuing to become a canvas for Bucky's art the more they fall in love). None of those were part of the original prompt - they were plot points I came up with. Granted, all of those but one are very broad and anyone could write this trope. But the "breathe" on the rib part is just too coincidental. Again, this is completely nothing to do with the author; and once again, the direction they took it in is completely different from mine and very enjoyable. They absolutely should be commended on their work. But this isn't a case of two authors getting the same prompt and then taking their own spins on it - the issue that's being raised is that I got a broad prompt and wrote a story about it, and then this anon seems to have taken MY plot that I created originally and went and prompted this author with it in turn, which just isn't cool on the anon's part."  
> Basically, someone sent me in a prompt of a story that was already created, but as I had written the story, and the original and mine were completely different, the problem dissipated.   
> The problem was a plagiarized prompt, but it was all worked out back in 2014.   
> I just wanted to make this clear, as I am posting it again, onto my new account. Thank you.

Steve knew once Fall came around, business would begin to boom. Always did. The menu filled with pumpkin spice everything, from lattes to cookies, and it was by far Steve's favorite job.

It also helped that there was a tattoo shop just across the street, one that he'd been eyeing for a while. Not just because he was thinking about getting a tattoo of...well, something, but also because of the artist who sometimes roamed around the front of the shop. Steve would catch a quick glimpse of him in the windows before he forced himself to look away. No way was he going to get in deep on a crush. He had a job to focus on.

But still, every now and then, Steve would take a look across the street, and see him working on customer, cleaning up the chairs. He couldn't help it. He knew he was having a crush, and he didn't even know the guy's name.

And he just couldn't bring himself to cross the street and talk to him. Was he even gay? Bisexual? Steve couldn't just go up to someone, not knowing if they were conservative or open-minded. He was not only afraid of rejection, he was afraid of being outed.

So, he continued his own job, serving his customers day after day. The man across the street would come in every now and then, (ordering french vanilla latte, extra whipped cream, served hot), but Steve would always be cleaning up, talking to a fellow employee, taking someone else's order. It was as if the world didn't want them to ever meet. Steve tried to accept the fact that if there was ever going to be talking between them, Steve would have to initate it, so, it would never happen.

Eventually, autumn turned into winter, and pumpkin flavors changed to peppermint flavor. Steve was thankful the dress code for work wasn't strict as he wore cheesy sweaters most days, the baggy ones that went down to his knees. As much as he had loved fall, he loved winter almost as much. Especially the snow. Even though that much cold was dangerous for him, he loved watching it fall, the snowmen in the yards of families, the way the flourish on the tree leaves. He loved it all.

Steve had a long trek to work each day, not having enough money to just spend on getting a taxi everyday. His money was tight already, so spending aimlessly just wasn't a good idea. And apparently, today decided to add in an extra "fuck you" to his day by being below 20 degrees. Steve's trek to work hurt much more today, not just the long distance, but the cold that was spreading through his body, hitting his lungs, bursting a cold breeze from his fingers to his toes. Steve coughed, having to stop and lean against the wall of the nearest building in order to catch his breath. Soon, it went from coughing to a chest pain, and while he tried to ignore it, he couldn't help but see how close he was to an asthma attack. So, he breathed in deeply, scrunching his sweater up to keep him warm. His breaths changing from short to straight up wheezing, and he mentally cursed himself out for not bringing his inhaler with him today. He continued coughing, but tried to push it aside, as his work came into view. He made it several more feet before the coughing became too much, and he had to stop again, his breaths turning to strained wheezing as he collapsed in front some store. He leaned against the wall, both glad and upset that there wasn't many people nearby. He heard someone running towards him as Steve's vision began to blur and darken, and the stranger ducked down, grabbing Steve's arm gently. He could just hear this stranger talking, but the words just didn't register.

"Breathe. _Breathe_. Oh god, someone help!"

 

It was the smell of antiseptic that Steve registered first.

_A hospital. Oh great._

Steve's eyes flickered open slowly, the light in the room blinding him for a moment. He leaned up in bed once his vision cleared, and it was only then that he realized he wasn't alone. And not only was he not alone, the man from the tattoo shop was there.

"You nearly scared me half to death." Steve only blinked at him before he realized he should speak.

"I'm sorry," he said simply, rubbing his eyes, "Why are you here?"

"Well, I figured someone should be here when you wake up, and considering I was the one who found you, and no family showed up, I'd stay."

"You're the one who found me? So it was you're shop I collapsed in front of," Steve said, pulling some of the blankets up around him, "You didn't have to stay. I don't want to keep you from work."

"It's alright. I want to be here. I- I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Well, thank you for helping me."

"You're welcome Steve." Steve stared at him for a moment, processing.

"Wait, how do you know my name? We've never spoken before." The tattoo man looked down, smiling to himself slightly.

"Well, I've..um, been in the coffee shop, and I saw your name on your tag." Steve nodded. "Oh, right," Steve said, mostly to himself before he looked back up at tattoo man, "Well, seems a bit unfair that you know my name, but I don't know yours..."

"Oh, right. I'm Bucky," the man said, raising a hand out for Steve to shake. He accepted his hand, shaking it slightly.

"It's very nice to meet you Bucky."

"It's nice to meet you too Steve."

 

From that moment on, it's like Steve didn't stop seeing Bucky. He noticed that he was coming to the coffee shop a bit more, and was able to jump into Steve's line, chatting with him a bit before he got his drink (still a french vanilla latte with extra whipped cream). It was like he _wanted_ to see Steve.

So, once he was on his break, Steve crossed the street, finally, and entered the tattoo parlor, and walked up to where Bucky was standing behind a counter.

"Hello."

"Hello, what can I do for you today...oh Steve! What are you doing over here?" Bucky looked up from where he was sketching behind the counter, greeting Steve with a smile.

"I--um, well I'm on break, and I wanted, well, I guess I just wanted to see you."

"Oh, really?" Bucky smiled at Steve again, and he tried to ignore the way Bucky's cheeks turned a pinkish color.

"Yeah, just thought it might be nice to come over and visit." Steve smiled this time, and Bucky could help but blush harder.

"Oh, did you want to see what I'm sketching? One of my clients has been asking for watercolor designs, so I've been trying to test out some different designs." Steve peered over the counter, looking at Bucky's sketches. Splashes of color marked the page, one design making a splatter of color. Several others were of animals in the watercolor style. The last was was what looked similar to tulip flowers, and the color was almost dripping down the page. Steve gaped at the designs before looking up at Bucky.

"These are _really_ good," Steve said, pointing at the colors, "I love the coloring here."

"Have you ever thought of getting a tattoo?" Bucky asked him, setting his sketches aside for a moment.

"Not really. Never really had a good idea for one. I'd been thinking a little more about it lately, but I don't know."

"Well, you know, if you ever want one, you know where to find me." Steve smiled before checking the clock that was hanging on the wall behind Bucky.

"Oh shit, my break's almost over. I better be headed back over to the shop." Bucky nodded.

"Alright. Well, I guess I'll see you around."

"See you later Buck."

 

Oh god, his crush ran deeper than expected.

Bucky couldn't help loving the way Steve smiled, the way he moved and walked. He would occasionally glance up at the shop across the street, trying to maybe catch a glimpse of Steve making a cup of coffee. He visited the coffee shop frequently, easily becoming a regular customer. And yet, he couldn't find the guts to speak to Steve.

_Bucky, focus. You have a job to do._

It was when he found Steve collapsed outside his shop that he really realized that he was in deep. And then Steve starting talking to him a bit more. They'd become friends, Steve visiting the tattoo parlor, Bucky visiting the coffee shop.

_One day, Bucky, one day you'll tell him._

 

And apparently, that day was this day. Today was the day he was going to tell Steve. However, it was as if all the customers he'd ever had had doubled, and all decided to come in on the same day. He hardly had anytime to clean up the chairs before the next customer came in asking for a design.

He could only hope that maybe Steve would come over and visit. And even then, he didn't know if he'd have the guts to speak up. For god's sakes, he blushed ever time Steve came over to visit.

He didn't have time to catch his thoughts when Steve did finally come over in the late afternoon. The customers had began to taper away.

"Hey Buck."

"Hey Steve. What's up?"

"Well, I was thinking about that offer you gave me, about the tattoo."

"You want to get one?"

"Yeah." Bucky smiled, pulling his sketchbook up from behind the counter. "What sort of design do you want? A lot of people are getting watercolor animals lately, but I'm not sure if you'd want something like that or not." Steve looked through the sketchbook, mostly looking at the phrases that Bucky tattooed often.

_Focus Buck. He just wants a tattoo, not a love confession._

"You know, I was kind of thinking about just getting a small word on my chest."

"Oh really? That seems simple enough. What word?" Steve blushed, passing the sketchbook back over to Bucky.

"Well, it's kind of embarrassing."

"Oh, well, if you don't tell me, I can't help you find a better tattoo or design..."

"No, I mean, "Steve began, though cut himself off as he collected his thoughts. Bucky looked over at Steve, and the words that he'd been meaning to say all day just seemed to slip over his lips.

"I think I'm falling for you." Steve looked up at Bucky, his eyes growing wide.

"What?"

"Nothing. What were you saying?"

"You said you were falling for me." Bucky backed away from the counter.

"Maybe I did. But you don't seem to be reciprocating, so just forget I said anything." Steve moved to the other side of the counter, catching Bucky's arm. Bucky turned around as Steve leaned up on his toes, and pressed a kiss to Bucky's lips. Bucky smiled and kissed him back, his hands moving to Steve's hair.

"So does that mean you reciprocate?" Steve chuckled, glancing down before nodding.

"Of course it does."

 

In the end, Steve left the shop not only with a new tattoo, but with a boyfriend. The word itself brought a smile to his face.

_"What do you want as your tattoo?" Bucky finally asked after more kisses were exchanged. Steve smiled, grabbing Bucky's sketchbook and a pen. He wrote a small word in simple cursive writing before sliding the paper over to Bucky._

_"'Breathe'? Why would this have been embarrassing?"_

_"Because the reason behind it is kind of sappy."_

_"And what would that reason be?" Steve blushed, before taking a moment to answer._

_"It's the first word you ever said to me." Bucky thought back on it, remembering finding Steve collapsed outside his shop._

"Breathe. _Breathe_. Oh god, someone help!"

_"Oh," was all Bucky could say, but it seemed to be enough for Steve because he could only smile._

_"I was wondering if I could get it done over my heart."_

_"Of course you can."_

Steve lifted a hand to his chest, feeling a slight twinge of pain over his heart from the tattoo. This time though, the pain was good, because it came with a memory. The memory of Bucky's hands working delicately over his chest, tracing the word into his skin.

'Breathe'.

It all just seemed very fitting.

**Author's Note:**

> Go over to my main:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/jecroisentoi
> 
> Thanks,  
> Dorian  
> (My writing style has gotten a bit better since this. This was originally written in 2014.)


End file.
